Chapter 10: The Hogwarts Express
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The Hogwarts Express was set to leave at eleven, but Tom arrived early. When he boarded the train, there were only a few other students scattered about.
He made his way toward the last few compartnts at the rear of the train. That way, when more students ca on board, they wouldn’t all be passing by his door and disturbing him.
Stopping near the second-to-last car, Tom picked a random compartnt.
Andros’s voice echoed in his mind.
"They really hid the Hogwarts Express inside a Muggle train station? Aren’t they afraid of getting caught?"
Tom chuckled. "Well, this is the biggest use of a Muggle-Repelling Charm in wizarding history. The Ministry reinforces it every year. I’d bet Repelling Charms are the one spell every Ministry employee is guaranteed to master."
"We didn’t even have a Ministry back in my day," Andros sighed. "Things are so much more convenient now. Especially when it cos to keeping those rotten Dark wizards in check."
Tom nodded. "Containing Dark wizards is really just a form of self-preservation. Muggles today aren’t anything like they were back then. If the magical world got exposed now, most wizards wouldn’t stand a chance."
That made Andros go quiet for a mont.
Though he didn’t look down on Muggles exactly, Andros did carry the arrogance that ca with being a powerful wizard—more so than most, really. He had been the strongest of his ti, after all.
Still, he never imagined that the sa Muggles who once worshipped wizards as gods would advance so far—far enough to beco a real threat.
No wonder the books said the whole reason the Ministry was founded was to keep the magical world hidden from Muggles.
As Andros lapsed into silence, Tom didn’t press the topic. He flipped the page in his book and kept reading, content. He didn’t have much ti today to train with Andros anyway. Opening the studying space was more to let the "ancient relic" take a look at the modern world than anything else.
Just as the train began to fill up and the departure ti crept closer, the compartnt door slid open.
A girl stood in the doorway, startled to find soone already inside. She had long, golden curls, big fluttering lashes, and eyes that blinked rapidly in surprise.
But instead of leaving, she stepped in and asked a little shyly, "Do you mind if I sit here?"
"Not at all," Tom said, giving her a polite nod before rising to help stow her bag.
As he lifted it, he noticed that although the bag looked ordinary, the corners were stitched with dark gold trim, and there was an intricate crest embroidered into one of the sides.
A family crest, no doubt.
He imdiately guessed she was from an old pure-blood family—probably soone important.
She thanked him and sat across from him. But as Tom reopened his book, her gaze kept sneaking back toward him.
"He’s so good-looking."
That thought popped into her mind and startled her enough to make her cheeks flush. She quickly looked away—only for her eyes to wander back a second later, betraying her.
It’s practically a rule of the universe: anyone nad Tom Riddle is guaranteed to be attractive.
Tom’s dark hair had a soft, natural wave to it. His deep-colored eyes were fixed intently on the book in his hands, and his features were strikingly sharp.
The girl found herself srized—and slightly jealous. How could a boy have more delicate features than she did? His face could rival her younger sister’s!
When it beca clear Tom wasn’t going to start a conversation, she fidgeted a little before gathering the courage to speak.
"Hi, I’m... I’m Daphne Greengrass. First year at Hogwarts."
Tom closed his book and responded politely, "Tom Riddle. Also a first year."
Riddle?
Daphne ntally flipped through everything she knew about wizarding families. She couldn’t rember ever hearing that surna before.
"Are you... half-blood?" she asked carefully. "Or maybe... Muggle-born?"
Tom gave a casual shrug. "Honestly? I’ve got no idea. My parents abandoned
when I was a baby. Maybe they were Muggles, maybe they were Squibs. Doesn’t really matter."
He tilted his head slightly and smirked. "What’s wrong, Miss Greengrass? Regretting sitting with ?"
The Greengrass family, listed in Cantankerus Nott’s Sacred Twenty-Eight, was considered one of the finest examples of noble pure-blood lineage—low-key but extrely prestigious.
Naturally, Tom assud she’d be another Malfoy-type, about to start ranting about blood purity.
But what happened next surprised him.
"No, no, no, please don’t get the wrong idea!"
She waved her hands quickly, looking flustered. "I don’t really care about all that. My mum always said every pure-blood family probably had Muggle ancestors at so point. I was just curious, that’s all. I’ve never actually t anyone from the Muggle world before..."
Tom blinked. "Ah. Then I misunderstood. My apologies."
"It’s fine," Daphne said with a sincere shake of her head. Then she skipped right past the awkwardness and added, "My little sister’s obsessed with Muggle fashion magazines. She found this old one years ago, but that’s all she has."
"If it’s not too much trouble... do you think you could help
get a few more soti? I’d pay you for them, of course."
"Sure, but you’ll have to wait until Christmas break," Tom replied.
Then sothing clicked in his mory.
Daphne’s younger sister... right, wasn’t her na Astoria Greengrass? A quiet, forgettable girl who ended up marrying Draco Malfoy. She had so kind of health issue too and didn’t live very long.
Not that Tom would ever ntion that.
Instead, he followed Daphne’s lead, letting her steer the conversation. She asked all sorts of questions about the Muggle world, and he answered them one by one.
At one point, she even pulled out a quill and parchnt to take notes, saying she wanted to write to her sister about everything.
From those little monts, it was obvious—Daphne really loved her sister.
At so point, the train began to move, heading west toward the Scottish Highlands. The rhythmic clack of the wheels didn’t interrupt their conversation at all.
Andros popped back into Tom’s mind with a sudden comnt.
"I’d bet you a Galleon that girl’s already got a crush on you. No, wait—not just a crush. She’s drooling over how you look. Wants your body."
"Run, Tom. Run."
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